


The Real Heroes Never Believe They Are One

by StainedGlassDreams



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, CA: CW - Freeform, Captain America: Civil War, Dreams, Memory, Nightmares, bucky's apartment, romania - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-06-09 17:36:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 6,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6916855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StainedGlassDreams/pseuds/StainedGlassDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Times & places are more like places on a map for him. Each time, a country and each memory, a continent.</p><p>....Not sure how long he wants to stay on any of them.</p><p>(Times from Bucky's apartment, and in between TWS/CW)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This series is strictly canon to the Cap films; there may be nods to my other series, set in comic, but for the most part, this will focus on the MCU :)
> 
> Thank You always for reading :)

He began to walk home, the rain still in fresh puddles on the ground.

There's a look all veterans have.

Looks both ways as he walks the alley back home.  
A dog came up to Bucky as he passed, tail wagging. Looked down to him as he touched his head with his left hand, before taking an apple out of his bag, breaking it open with his right & giving some to the stray.

Knows it because he had it.  
Because his Uncle Charlie had it. His cousin Gregory.  
Dum-Dum, for God's sake.

Behind the smiles, behind the liquor and jokes and cigarettes, there's a look.

Went up the stairs, his footsteps echoing.

Knows it because he couldn't hide it from Steve, choosing to stay in the back whenever he possibly could.  
Knows it because he's doing now.

Opens the lock to the apartment, turning on the light; takes the small metal pick he keeps on top of the door to make sure no one had come in.

This is how it is now.

Sighs softly, putting down the bag atop the kitchen table.  
He spent the day (majority) at the library down the road. Researched Vol 5 of the Almanac from 1991. ....Year's been sticking in his head like a broken record lately, thinks maybe if he reads about it, it'll get it out.  
Like a headache that wouldn't go away, no matter the asprin.

Puts away the week's groceries, a few vegetables and fruit. Energy and candy bars, fish. A loaf of bread & some canned goods.

Speaking of the asprin.  
Bucky takes out the bottle, taking about 5 (burns through his system faster than anything, lasts only an hour. if he's lucky).  
Holds the counter, gripping it. ...Dammit.

There's a look in the eyes of veterans.

Goes to the bathroom, rinsing off his face. Looked up at the mirror, breathing deep.

Knows it because he sees it. Burned even deeper in his retinas than back during the war.


	2. Chapter 2

Sometimes he dreams of the ocean.

(It's Rockaway, has to be)

& the dream always, al-fucking-ways, starts and ends the same.

He drops something on the shore & the waves take it away, as he walks back to get it.  
& right when he reaches for it, the waves recede greatly, and then it reaches all the way to the top of the shore, pulling him like gravitational orbit to a moon.  
He silently struggles to stay on, gripping the shore. & it's heavy.

& every time, he wakes up with another memory. It's just like this.

Catches his breath, putting his head back as he tried to regain composure (Romania, not Moscow. Bucharest, not Russia-).  
After his breath finally catches up to him, he reaches for the notebook he keeps next to the bed, writing what just came in his head.

This is how it now.  
& he deserves every fucking minute.


	3. Chapter 3

\--------

Steve almost caught up.

Combs through the afternoon newspaper as he eats an apple.  
It was back in Switzerland. He had to stay there, waiting for the next train.

Turns the page.

It was...during the rougher months. ...The ones he doesn't like to think about.  
Slipped up, stayed too long in front of a post office, the camera catching a brief glimpse of him.  
He prematurely boarded the next train to Austria (ironic, too damn ironic), reading the next week that so had Steve.  
Didn't sleep in the motel like he had planned to avoid being spotted again.

"STARK TECH MAKES DEBUT; EXPERIMENTAL REDWING DRONE GIVEN TO SAM WILSON- THE FALCON"

All he needed was just once, & that'd be it.

Crunch.

So he left.

"PEPPER POTTS: IRON MAN'S NEXT BIGGEST HEARTBREAK?"

There are multiples definitions for the word coward.  
You can be a coward for running from a fight. You can even be a coward for staying in one.  
You can be a coward for running away from your problems, denying that they even fucking exist.

"Potts, the former CEO of Stark Industries has stepped down from her executive position at the company, leading sources saying that her long relationship with Tony Stark may be to blame. Stark, known as much for his nocturnal happening as he is for the red suited wonder, has remained silent, continuing his college campus "Dream" Tour, granting free funding for young STEM researchers."

He is not the definition of these. He's keeping Steve away from the problem. Hell, everyone.  
He knew the HYDRA bases in DC, yet he only ruined the one. He knew where Steve was, but stayed as far, and far distant as he could from the hospital (your damn fault, his stomach turning).  
He didn't need to bring Steve in this. Not....This. Not hiding, not running. He deserves an actual life. He never freaking had one.

"Search resumes for assassin, in wake of Amsterdam professional hit. Police are searching for a man believed to be from Sokovian Elite Forces-"

Noise, he thought as he folded the newspaper.

Remembers a time in Brooklyn where he'd occasionally get pissed at Steve for reading the WWII headlines. "London bombed.", "Germany continues unspeakable horrors"  
Now, it was horrible every day. Everywhere.

Drinks some of the bottle water he got.

If teenage him saw these, he might go out & hide every copy from Steve, afraid he'd get an attack.  
Him now... ....

Closes the paper, taking some & pasting the ads on the Windows again (moisture from the recent storm a few days ago rending it near useless, a wet sloppy paper mache mess like his Grandmother used to make).  
He knows Steve will never give up. It's Steve. It's like telling a star to stop glowing, it just....can't.  
He can't ignore injustice, and he can't ignore evil. He's never been able to stand on the sidelines like everyone else, and just hope. The difference is made by one man, his Father always used to say.

...Explains why he wouldn't stop searching for him.

Bucky sighed, going over to exercise as he left the depressing paper.

& it explains why Bucky has to stay far away as humanly possible.


	4. Chapter 4

\-------  
Doesn't want to sleep. & can't.

Russia is still sketchy. He can't really.... It's there, and he doesn't wanna touch it. Yet.

3am blinked slowly on the clock, green digits taunting him.

There's a picture of Natasha Romanoff in his notebook and he can't.... He can't figure out why.

3:03

He knows about her, knows of her. Hell, the brief files he did get himself to read at the library say damn near enough. A kill list close (close) to his, and enough trouble to amount to a life too close (close) to his.  
He knows she's from Russia but....she looks his age. There can't be any possible way she was back in Russia; he remembers the Red Room but he remembers they didn't cryo-freeze any of the graduates. Just did the regular, horrible inflicted horrors that the Soviets did.  
The HYDRA Moscow branch were cruel, aggressive but they were army trained. 

They were nothing compared to the teachers in the mainland.  
He pictures the nuns in the church he went to, the schoolyard where he saw them teach. Pictures that, but demonized and 30000x worse.

3:20

Still doesn't explain why he has a picture of Natasha Romanoff in his notebook that he can't take off.  
She just sits there. Eyes asking "You know something, you know. You're almost there."

Gives up at 3:55, tries to sleep again.

It still doesn't explain why he has a picture of her.  
.....Why it feels right.


	5. Chapter 5

"And you are, on a search for James Barnes, aren't you?"  
"I don't see how that's relevant to what we're discussing."  
"Well, your mishaps with the Avengers-"  
"Our 'mishaps' helped unearth a Nazi organization-"  
"-seem to be on a sporadic basis, and sources have said you're poking around for a wanted criminal!"  
Wilson looks at the interviewer, eyes serious as stone.  
"James Barnes is a POW. First and foremost. You can flip that any way the media does, and it still won't change. If it were a American soldier in Islamic radical territory, he would given medical help, not a goddamn witch hunt."  
"Is this your VA teaching talking, Mr. Wilson?"  
A long pause. "This is a person, talking. Ms. Everheart. Awful misleading name, by the way. I don't really see one."

Bucky looks at the TV.  
He doesn't deserve this.


	6. Chapter 6

"Au! De ce ai facut asta?!"  
"Tu ești un ratat, Victor, există vreun alt motiv?"

Bucky looked at the two kids, one considerably bigger.  
70 years, and kids never changed.

"Hei! Lasa-l in pace!" Another came out of virtually nowhere.  
"Sau ce?"

The one that just came put his fists up, standing in front of the smaller one.

"Ești la fel de prost ca și el? Vrei să mergi o altă rundă, Gyranei?"  
"Pot să fac asta toată ziua."

"Lyle!! What're you doing to that boy?! Get over here!!" The Mom of the bigger kid came over. "I am so sorry-" talked in hush, and angered tones to the bastard.

Gyranei helped the small one up. "Ești un idiot, știi tu."  
The smaller kid dusted himself off, wiping his lip. "Am înțeles de la tine, frate."  
He pushed the smaller one as they smiled.

Bucky couldn't help but smile. 70 years, and still. Nothing changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Romanian Translation from Google, if it messed it up horribly, please tell me the correct translation & I'll fix, and credit you :)
> 
> "Ow, why did you do that for?!"  
> "You're a loser Victor, is there any other reason?"  
> "Hey! Leave him alone!"  
> "Or what?"  
> "Are you as stupid as he is? You want to go another round, Gyranei?"  
> "I can do this all day."  
> "You're an idiot, you know."  
> "I get it from you, brother."


	7. Chapter 7

Sit-up.

There was one time, about 2 years ago, when all he saw were colors.

5.

It triggered damn near everything.

Blue was Steve. Red was Russia.  
When he closed his eyes, all he saw was gold. He could never pinpoint why.

15.

It got to a point where he didn't really want to breathe, even scents starting a chain reaction of senses, memory.

21.

White was Brooklyn. Black was Italy.  
.....Green was Austria.

35.

It was in the harder months. The one where intuition was the only thing keeping him going, and memory was a path that only revealed itself as he continued on it.

62.

Steve was Blue. Red was Russia, White is Brooklyn.  
He was gold. ....Just wishes he knew why.

He's so devoid of color in his mind at this point, he doesn't know what it means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Halsey- "Colors (Pt. II)


	8. Chapter 8

His fingers tingled underneath, the tips feeling something.

"Here.... There we go."

Muscle memory never leaves you.

Flexed his right hand.

Even if it, leaves you.

Felt an old, worn but vibrant piano underneath them. ...Small hands under his palms.  
Felt it echo around him, and if he closed his eyes enough (and his head could stomach the pain as much as his heart), could see his old apartment with his family. Becca beside him on the stool.

She pressed a key, wonder in her eyes. "Like this?"  
(She had just lost a tooth, the sound whistling.)  
Remembers his Mother telling him there wasn't a 'wrong' way to play an instrument.  
He smiled. "You've got it kiddo."

Closed his eyes, her smile lighting up the emptiness of the apartment here, now. A million miles from Brooklyn, and about another 10 into the past.  
That glow that nothing was wrong. Nothing could be wrong.

Steve wouldn't lose his Mother in the next month's. He wouldn't join the Army in the next two years.

Regulated his breathing.

He wouldn't have been deployed to Azzano. He wouldn't have been caught with his unit.  
He wouldn't have been singled out by Zola. Wouldn't have had Steve rescue him.

In. Out.

He wouldn't have been programmed by Zola later.

His life, he sees now, is just a web of "what if's?". What if he had stayed in Brooklyn with Steve?  
What if he had asked to be deployed to France?  
What if he had resisted-

Clenches his fist.

He resisted all he could. Reason tells him he couldn't have fought it.  
But the growing & unceasing guilt that presses against his memory and his dreams tells him otherwise. That us was his hands, his body, his fingers. & no matter what, he's responsible.

Tries to hold onto the memory as long as he can, watching Becca and her daisy dress that his Aunt sent her for her 4th birthday.

Feels the smooth white keys underneath his fingers.

Right now though, he just wants to feel this memory, the old apartment and the smell of it.  
Wonders what if he never left.

And tries to hide the fact that that option, never existed.


	10. Chapter 10

There's a bakery down on the lower streets that he goes into.

Made sure there wasn't any cameras, or ones that faced directly on him (it's why he only ever bought most of his grocery from the marketplace).

The store is small, just the baked goods and a small back area where they do it.  
He'd heard the other day the business had been here for near ever, run by the same family ever since that time.

The smell took him back, but he didn't need it right now, pocketing it.

They were behind on rent, because most of the money went back to the community. They'd help out the neighbors with their daughter's schooling. The old man's medical bills down the road. Anything they could.

They were the only store on this block, not to have a security camera.  
Whether it was due to cost, or because they just has faith in people, he wasn't sure.

"Vă pot ajuta?" A woman came from the back, wiping her hands on a worn, but clean rag.  
Tries to hide his surprise as she looks like spitting image of Sarah. Tries not to stare at her too long.  
"...Da, uh..Ai vreo pască?"  
"Pască? Cred că am un lot în partea din spate. Te superi de așteptare?"  
"Nu la toate, Multumesc."

As she disappeared into the back, he got out a wad of bills from his pocket.

They have faith in people. Even if that means they put themselves last.

Makes sure she's still in the back as he leaves.

He remembers what that was like. Struggling to make the rent money to make sure he and Steve didn't get kicked out on their asses.  
Remembers countless times it was mostly because Mrs. Tabitheu or Mr. Bernadine didn't have enough to, both he & Steve agreeing each time to paying their back rents.  
They had faith something would come. A lesser man would probably call it naivete.

Disappeared down the alley, taking the shorter route back home.

But he knew better than that. Sometimes hoping for the best, means giving it to someone else.

An alley cat laid on top of the low wall.

And if there was someone still doing that, who believed it...  
He'd do anything he could to keep it going.

They had faith in people. That things could get better.

Was Thankful there were still people like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> "Can I help you?"  
> "...Yes, uh..do you have any Pască?"  
> "Pască? I think I have a batch in the back. Would you mind waiting?"  
> "Not at all, Thanks."
> 
> Translation comes from Google, as well as the pastry x)  
> If it's incorrect, please tell me & I'll correct it :)


	11. Chapter 11

There's a dream he keeps on having. He can remember everything clearly except for the damn words, scrubbed out hastily & messily, his mind trying to not let him see it.

Sweats underneath the thin blanket, despite it being something like 60 degrees in the room as the wintee draft came in.

He remembers the dream though. And that's another punishment he'll take to try and remember the words.

\----

Before Siberia, he was kept in Russia (that part still blurry, red upon red upon red, if he thinks hard enough, his heart hurts for some reason he still can't think of).  
Karpov was just a Major at the time, and the head of program was someone he...can't recall either.  
The mind wiping was never required before, his memory already scrambled from the fall.

The strangest sensation, he thinks, is remembering that you can't remember. You automatically become a ghost in your own dream, a witness to what you couldn't recall.

That changed after the Brooklyn mission. 1950.

"Target neutralized."  
"[Well done, Soldier.]"  
He watched himself, dismantling the gun.  
[Proceed to retrieval point.]"  
He's watched it nearly half a dozen times now, can remember exactly what happened.  
He put his hand to his forehead, a headache he's had since he got here, suddenly getting worse.

"I can get by on my own."

Squeezes his eyes shut, trying to make it stop.

"Don't do anything stupid 'til I get back."

There's a barrage of images, and a feeling.  
This isn't right.  
The voice that's been fighting since 1945. 'This isn't right. You don't belong here. Remember.'

He went on the run after that. Chicago to Brooklyn and back.  
He was searching for something that wasn't there, but inside the landmine of his head.  
They eventually found him in a halfway house. Became the kind of story all paranoid sentients recall.

He sat in a cuffed chair.  
"Where is he?" He struggled, knowing that voice.  
A sigh at the doorway. "...Sergeant Barnes." Zola came into the room, a bowler's hat on and a clipboard.

He didn't fight. That bothers him every time he's stuck in this dream. He just sat there, listening to him.

"I hear, you have been recalling your memories."

Too weak. Physically and mentally spent.

"....Your time in Brooklyn."

He should have fought.

"....Yes. We kept it from you because I figured it did not matter anymore. Like your friend, you became a different person after I gave you my improved version of Herr Schmidt's formula."

Feels himself sweat in reality, and the dream.

"So....we will remind you of this." Looked at his clipboard. "Dr. Faustus did inform me how, gratefully." Zola smiled. "We will remind you."


	12. Chapter 12

The doctor, whoever he was, was worse than Zola. He quickly came to realize that.  
....Remembers Karpov being there under protege.

They chose words. Programmed Russian words that would apparently make him compliant.  
What the human mind is capable of, is a limit no one knows. No one should know.  
But he did. It was 2 weeks, and 17 hours.

2 weeks & 17 hours of electrical shock to his brain, following a set of words.

(He tries to make himself hear it, wipe off the protection his mind keeps strengthening every time he dreams this.)

The words blur, but the feelings & memories don't.

One: Brooklyn. The smell of it, running through his mind.  
It quickly becomes pain.

Two: That time in Mrs. Waterman's garden, when he gave himself a cut deserving of a scar on a rusted screw.  
He remembers that pain.

Three: The day he enlisted. The pressure of it all, though the intention was good. He knows it was. ....Was it?  
He questions his character.

Four: A blurry sunrise.  
Remembers Fennhoff saying, "Would you like to forget?"

Furnace. Just...flames.  
Hears a voice saying "This can hurt. Or it can take away, all the pain."

Six: Sees the edges of a paper burn in it. Thinks it's his birth certificate.

Seven: Quiet. Severe, and frightening quiet.

Eight: "Good. You've chosen correct, Soldier."

Nine: The voice isolated.

Ten: Falling.  
Ready to com-

He wakes up. His body soaked in sweat, and he can never breathe.  
There's a buzzing in his mind that scares him more than the dream, & he has to grasp the mattress to remind himself he's awake.  
The clock blinks "4:32".  
You're awake. You're awake.

(Are you sure?, his frazzled mind asks)

You're awake, dammit. You were dreaming.

He catches his breath after 2 minutes, the fear subsiding in slow, growing waves.  
All that, & only remembers one of the words. Furnace.  
Grabs the notebook & writes it down.

"This can hurt, or it can take away all the pain."

He puts himself through this because if he can remember, he can take control. If he can remember, he can get it out.

If he dwells too much on the word he just remembered, his head starts spinning.

If he can remember, he can undo what he did after 2 weeks and 17 hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The numbers symbolize the trigger words used by Karpov & Zemo in CA: CW but are omitted to show that Bucky isn't able to recall the words; just the feeling, as per Dr. Fennhoff's technique in "Agent Carter".
> 
> The words in order are:  
> Longing  
> Rusted  
> Seventeen  
> Daybreak  
> Furnace  
> Nine  
> Benign  
> Homecoming  
> One  
> Freight Car


	13. Part i

He remembers his Grandmother's funeral.

It was the first funeral he had ever been to.  
Everyone was dressed in gray, and as opposed to the day Steve lost his Father years later, it was sunny.  
He saw them lower her casket in the grave, as his Mother remained somber and his Dad, trying his best to put on the straight face he always kept.

Bucky sits on the bed as this all comes back to him.

All he could think about, he remembers, is his Grandmother Dixie pointing the constellations out to him & Steve once.  
"Have you ever seen the lights?" She asked. "They're soo very, very far. But, no matter where you are, the stars can guide you home."

He remembers that, and that night, he & Steve sit out on the stoop, looking for the North Star.

His stomach turns over as he closes the book.  
A star brought him home.  
Looks to his left arm.

.....And one won't let him come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by The Killers- "Sam's Town (Abbey Road Version)"


	14. Part ii

He remembers the day he enlisted. That was tough to swallow, as it seems so far away now.

It was Steve's 25th birthday.

Fireworks erupted over the city.  
"I still find it kind of funny you're born on July 4th. You're like a walking American flag." He jokes, walking with him.  
"You'll never let that up, will you?"  
"Nah. Too much fun."  
"And who's named after a President, James?" He retorts back.  
"Punk."

They continued, Bucky's face turning serious. "....I know I told you I'd do whatever you wanted today Steve."  
"Buck-"  
"It's a somber way to spend your birthday, & you know it." He says, the weight of it holding a meaning only the two of them would know. Maybe it was low, but he had to try.  
"Nothing you say is gonna change my mind."  
He sighs, the weight of his breath like a goddamn cannon. "...I know. That's why I wish you'd change your own mind."  
Steve stops, looking at him. "I wanna do this, Buck. But that doesn't mean you have to."  
"I can't change your mind, you can't force me into anything. We're both stubborn mules, so quit it. Besides. You're my brother."

For his birthday, Steve wanted to try enlisting. He did it for his country, his family. & for Steve.  
Steve did it because.... Because it was the right thing to do.  
Bucky would get approved. Steve would get his first of many rejection notices.

Steve was born on the 4th of July because he was what freedom should have been. What people, should be like.  
He's never been jealous of it, nor envious. But proud. Proud of the man he's always been.

In Steve's veins, there's been nothing but truth, & selflessness.

Bucky flexes his right arm. In his, he feels his blood is an american masquerade.  
...But Steve's still Steve. ...It's all that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by The Killers- "Sam's Town (Abbey Road Version)"


	15. Chapter 15

The tech doesn't surprise him.

He wanders carefully around Bucharest, making the grocery rounds again after his trip to the library.

He's been trained in all of it.  
Multiple aviation systems, computer framework; when the Soviet branch of HYDRA fell apart (from what he figures, it was DC cutting their losses, with Serbia holding too many of the cards), he was given to the highest bidder.

Buys some chips from the only market that doesn't have a security camera. Too poor to afford one.

It just happened that it was the DC branch, who kept him up to date on it. For them.

"Asta e tot?"  
"Da. Multumesc."

DC comes back clearer than Serbia.  
Walks back, cap kept low.  
He just doesn't want to remember it.

The headline of the paper on the window reads "TONY STARK: INVENTOR OR MAD GENIUS?"

He drops the bag on the table, more tired than he's been in a few days.  
He read archives from 2008-2009 today. Almost all of it is about Stark.  
Cussed under his breath, forgot to buy asprin, down to his last 5.

He looks so much like Howard, it's funny.  
Remembers a time he took Steve, Bucky & the Commandos to some French club, where Dernier practically had his mouth 10ft on the floor.  
...Acts just like him too, really.

One If the first things he's read was the Commandos.  
They all got happily married, aside from Dernier, who was widowed.  
He's read enough about Steve. Enough to fill 2 Smithsonians, & it's not even half of what he remembers.

Opens a chocolate bar, trying to stave of the edges of the headache that's slowly growing.

Of all the people, he expected Howard never to get married. Too full of his expectations. And, really, himself. Still was a good man though.  
& it seems this generations going to get the same dosage of him that he & Steve all did, magnified by 50.

He's read about Tony. About how the suit works (it's typical Stark technological witchcraft that you can't hate him for because it's so brilliant), & what he's done since that time.

Sighs, taking the last batch of asprin he has.

He's read about him because he hasn't slept since Monday (2 days ago?...). Because he remembers 1991, & tries to make up for it by reading about the kid.

He goes to the bed, lying & looking at the ceiling.

Because all he can hear is Howard saying his name, and he can't ever forgive himself for it.  
....Knows Tony Stark will probably kill him for it later.

Turns, trying to sleep.

He wouldn't blame him.


	16. Chapter 16

Sometimes he goes to this quiet cafe he's found.

It's quiet, and the neighborhood is small enough that the security tapes are only ever looked at when there's a break-in, which, from what he's seen, has never happened.

The news plays in the background, just something about General Ross getting promoted to Secretary Of State.  
From what he's read, the guy's so crooked, he doesn't have the time to care.

"Clătite și cafea, domnule."  
"Mulțumesc."

He's been here about 3 times sporadically in the last 4 months, & each time, it's as if nothing's changed.  
Two older gentleman always sit in the booth to the left, talking about the situations of the world.  
There's a girl that has what seems to be her lunch break, red hair tied back in a ponytail that starts a headache if he keeps looking too long.  
The cashier is continually making coffee for the same group of workers up the street, where the street is a never ending construction zone.

Sips his coffee quietly.

He comes here when his memories get too loud. A trigger starts a domino effect and he can't focus on just one, dreams piling up the mess.  
There's a calm in the familiarity, and it's as big a luxury as he can afford.

The news continued.

*Translated from Romanian*

(...the announcement comes following Ross' recent trips to Capitol Hill, where the now Secretary of State has increased his campaign for oversight over enhanced individuals following the incident in Sokovia just months ago.)

The newscaster panned to the next camera, as he straightened his papers.

(Authorities continue their search for the Winter Soldier, James Buchanan Barnes, former Howling Commando and suspected perpetrator for multiple political assassinations. Barnes was last seen in Austria, where the trail has since gone cold, as multiple tips continue to pour in.   
Up next, we speak to psychologist Dr. Anthony Broussard and son of Howling Commando member, Gabe Jones, on the subject."

He leaves before it finishes, the amount of the food on the counter.

He doesn't come back to the cafe after that.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this track: "Танцующий Кит"- △Sco△  
> https://soundcloud.com/scowitchboy/kit
> 
> Thank You so much for reading :)

He never buys the paper from the newsstand.

As much as he can keep to himself, columns have been doing on & off reports of him every week.  
No one has a current picture of him, & he wants to keep it that way.  
As different as the person in the picture is, there's still a chance they would know him.  
So he takes it from the corner store, looking down every time.

Combs through it. "DARREN CROSS, CEO OF PYM INDUSTRIES, DEAD: HYDRA INVOLVEMENT IS SUSPECTED. San Francisco, CA- Following the scientific blast that eradicated the Pym Industries Research Facility, local authorities are conducting a thorough investigation of the plant from any files that are salvageable, or may have been shared with other facilities for proof of CEO Darren Cross' possible involvement with HYDRA affiliations, who is presumed dead.  
It had been rumoured Cross had found a similar serum to the suspected "Ant-Man" event in the 80's, which had caught the interest of the Nazi organization.  
The information comes from an anonymous source, as authorities also search for a suspect-"

He closed the page, thinking. He could vaguely remember Karpov talking about it. Telling the soldiers, "We are the only ones who make ghost stories.". The squad couldn't find anything.  
He winced slightly in pain, the link becoming clearer. They didn't find anything on the Ant-Man, but they did hear that Howard Stark was once again resuming research into the Super-Soldier Serum.  
One which would be ready a few years later.

Grabbed his notebook to write down the memory, the pang of it in every own stroke.  
Breathed in before returning to the paper.

"Farkov Writes: Bucharest Times Opinion Piece  
James Barnes: The Hunt For The World's Most Infamous Ghost Story"  
There's a small photograph of him in the corner, the one no one besides him, & Steve, knows was taken by HYDRA spies.  
Keeps the paper in the small stack to the side for the windows when it rains.

HYDRA makes ghost stories. & he has to stay one, to make sure Steve's safe.  
To make sure he, whatever's left of James Barnes, is safe.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a year. And he doesn't think that will ever sink in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this, Thank You so much as always for doing so..... :') *bear hugs & kisses*

It doesn't feel like a year has passed.

He sips the coffee slowly, looking at the table as the warm spring wind wraps around him from the drafts in the windows.

Hell, it doesn't even feel like a month has passed.

The days blended into each other, but he can still tell you exactly what he did on each of them.

Takes another sip, trying to sober himself from last night.

Monday, he went for a surveillance check around the 3 blocks around him. Nothing.

"You always take your coffee black?" The waitress said, looking at him with care.

Tuesday, he bought some supplies for the week from a grocery he never went to before. The one on the street a few blocks down gave him strawberries knowing he picked some up the previous week.  
It hurt to stop, the owner reminding him of his Grandmother.

He felt himself smile, as her hair shone in the sun from the diner windows.

Wednesday, he went to the library. Picked up almanacs and looked at newspapers from 1969.

"There's enough sweetness in life."  
"That was corny." She smirked.  
"[I know.]" His Russian bled into the dream.  
Her hair turned red.

Thursday, he stayed inside, listening to the radio as Romanian representatives were amongst the first nations to join the Sokovian Summit.

He had a headache the rest of the night.

Yesterday, he read a paper someone threw away; the next newsstand a mile or so away.

He's considered going to the liquor store. Just getting a bottle of bourbon, whiskey.... Anything.  
Looks down at the coffee.

But it won't do anything. A year's worth of whatever this was, hiding out to keep anyone safe from him, he remembers.  
Remembers the dive bars in Italy, France; Germany. The show he had to put on to the unit. To Steve, pretending he was drunk when really, it felt like gasoline flavored water passing through him. Whatever happened in Austria, taking away the ability to numb it.

Looks down at the coffee, trying to fight the urge to throw the thing across the room.

He wants to have a drink. He wants to remember the girl he can't stop dreaming about.  
He wants to remember.

Closes his eyes & tries to hold onto something, anything.  
He remembers laying on a motel bed with someone, feeling like for the first time, he actually could breathe. Could enjoy something.

It's been a year. It'll never feel like it because time doesn't exist for him anymore.  
But he's grateful it's his own time.

And it's the only that's keeping the damn coffee cup on the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Metro Boomin- "Forever Young"


	22. Chapter 22

D.C.: Week 2

His head is a mess of "I don't remember".

Sleeps in a motel on the far side of Connecticut.

The memories have been coming back at intense speed, and there's nothing he can do to stop it.  
He doesn't want it to.

The notepad on the table is a mess of memories, Russia, Siberia, Brooklyn.  
They all mesh & blend but he knows which one is which.

Sweats in his sleep.

He knows that Moscow is blurry. He knows Siberia was everything that was promised (It's punishment, why does he know it was a punishment?).

"S-stop."

He knows Brooklyn hurts. It's the one thing that brings everything back. Azzano (it's a blurred, painful web), France. Austria.

"NO!" He wakes up, looking around the room.  
Here, you're here. It's Day 17. You're on your own.

He breathes deep, letting out a shaky breath.

You're on your own.

The news reports had been all over the TV. How much information Romanoff put out... It was impossible to sift tthrough.  
He knows about 40% of it.  
Sits on the edge of the worn mattress. The other 20% is stuck in his head, in the edges his mind is trying to mask from him, small pieces slipping through the defenseless psyche of his mind.

Everything is a memory of a memory. Writes down something about Rockaway Beach. Another thing from Austria.  
Remembers blue liquid & if he thinks about it too hard, it makes his head hurt again.

Looks to the window. They're looking for him.  
HYDRA. SHIELD. ...Steve.  
He splashes water on himself before he grabs his backpack, leaving the key in the lock.

He's known for a while now. He'll never be able to stop running.  
He'll never be able to outrun his memories.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the one broken tile in the kitchen wall of Bucky's apartment in Romania; as always, TY so much for reading :)

He tries to hear the traffic noise outside. 4 Cars and a motorcycle.

4 cars and a motorcycle.

He continues staring at the sink, water dripping from his hair, wet from when he splashed water onto himself in the last ditch effort to wake himself up.

If he focuses, he can mute the dream.  
Shakes slightly as he tries to remember how to breathe.

Feels the table underneath his hands. Romania, you're in Romania.

4 motorcycles and a car...?

Can feel the rumble of the motorcycle under his body as he tries to feel the floor underneath his feet, words reverberating off the back of his mind and he's finding it hard to catch his breath.

Memory doesn't care. Like a projector that won't ever turn off.

"Did you even fight, Buck?"

Shakes his head, muttering for his memory to stop replaying it.  
4 cars and a motorcycle, come on Bucky.

Fights Steve on the helicarrier.  
"Or did you just give up?"  
(No, I-)  
Feels like someone just burned his right arm, the star pulsing.  
"You let your family down. You let me down."

Howard Stark and a motorcycle.

No.

"You can't run from your past Buck. It'll always catch up."

Shut up.

Steve's car and 4 motorcycles.

"You can never run from what you were-"

Zola and 4 Russian soldiers.

"-what you are-"

He punches the wall in front of him, and the dream crumbles.

There's pieces of broken tile in the sink, and the walk is busted up in that one spot.  
He can hear the traffic clearer now, the wind blowing softly through a small crack.  
He pulls back his hand, lowering it in shame as he comes back to the real world.

"James Buchanan Barnes: Hero or Villain?", a small article in the newspaper reads on the edition he left on the table.

Bucharest continues on behind him, carrying on as if the world didn't jerk.

Memory doesn't care. It just projects wherever it feels like it, blanketing everything until you can't tell what's real.  
Memory doesn't give a rat's ass if it's been 2 days since you slept.  
2 years since DC.  
75 since you lost everything.

He begins picking up the pieces, throwing them out.

It's been 730 days since DC.  
And he knows he's better off damn alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Salem- "Better Off Alone"


End file.
